The Reflection

The Reflection

 The Looking Glass
  by Don Groninger

The fellow in the looking glass
Is battle worn, yet full of sage.
The fellow there in front of him,
Feels, inwardly, a younger age.
The process, then, of growing old,
Must be a race twixt two ideals:
What one sees in one’s reflection,
Against, precisely, how one feels.
At middle age the race begins,
But mostly we are unaware,
Then, aging will accelerate,
From wrinkles down to greying hair.
And then, alas, one day I’d stand
Before that candid looking glass,
I’d think, “This sure got out of hand…
How quickly all those years did pass.